


Run Through Your Heart

by iamtheunknown15



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Bisexual, Drama, F/F, F/M, Femslash, Gay, Hospital, House MD - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, LGBT, Lesbian, Medical, Multi, Original Character - Freeform, Romance, girlxgirl, queer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-07-22 06:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7423447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamtheunknown15/pseuds/iamtheunknown15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After confirming her Huntington's Diagnosis, Thirteen is on a downward spiral of drinking, drugs, and casual sex. Far from being a stranger to one night stands, what happens when one such stranger becomes hard to avoid. Set after "Lucky Thirteen."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, if it wasn’t clear, Thirteen is my favorite character on House M.D. (other than House himself). In this fic, I’ve decided to deviate from my normal pairing of the two in favor of Thirteen/House friendship and Thirteen/OC romance (I’ll be starting a series of Thirteen/House one shots as well sometime soon). The fanfic is set in season 5 right after episode 5, “Lucky Thirteen.” I will be incorporating some dialogue from the canon episodes, so consider this my copyright notation lol. Also, like my other fics, I’ve rated this fic T, although it will definitely have an M scene here and there. I will bold face these M-rated sections and include a warning before each of them so feel free to skip over them if you so desire.

Chapter 1

As the door handle to her apartment finally jiggled open, Remy Hadley found herself being pushed back into her apartment, her lips never disconnecting from the woman who had her body pressed tightly against her. With the door closed, she wasted no type in pursuing her goal and grabbed the hem of her counterpart’s black tank top, yanking it off to reveal her braless chest – small breasts that she quickly grabbed as she pushed the stranger up against the wall, illiciting a surprised gasp from the blonde as her back made contact.

Control. House had been right. These trysts were nothing more than a desperate grappling for some sense of power as the rest of her life kept spiraling. It wasn’t that she wouldn’t give it up after her near-expulsion from Princeton-Plainsboro – it was that she couldn’t. Which is why she now found herself in the middle of yet another one-night stand with someone picked up at a swanky lesbian bar a few blocks from her brownstone. This woman was different than her typical gorgeous femme conquests (another thing House was right about – she liked the challenge). This one was more androgynous, almost stick-thin and lanky with short messy platinum blonde that Remy yanked on, eliciting another gasp. The fleeting thought of Shane and the L Word crossed her mind, almost making her chuckle. Sure, this girl vaguely resembled the boyish queer Casanova, but that certainly didn’t mean Remy was going to let her be in charge.

That proved more difficult when she felt the blonde suck on a particularly sensitive spot behind her eye lobe, and she stifled a moan before drawing her own lips down the woman’s neck, nipping the skin before sucking hard.

“Stop. No marks. Work,” the blonde said in a raspy voice that betrayed her arousement. Remy frowned. No fun. That said, she stopped her ministrations and grabbed the girl’s hand, leading her down the hall into her bedroom. Flicking on the lights, she grinned playfully before placing her hands on the blonde’s hips and guiding her backwards until her legs hit the edge of the bed. The girl looked up at her with a seductive smirk, kicking off her shoes and brushing some of the messy waves out of her hair before settling back on to her elbows.

[M-content follows until page break] Remy brought her hands to the button of the girl’s deep turquoise skinny jeans and undid them with a practiced hand before pulling them and the boxer briefs beneath them down in one yank. The blonde quirked an eyebrow. “You certainly don’t waste any time.”

“Nope.” She omitted the fact that she didn’t have much to begin with.

“You’ve wearing an unfair amount of clothing,” the stranger said, interrupting Remy’s less than pleasant thought by pulling her on top of her. Quickly but carefully unbuttoning the brunette’s shirt – which Remy silently appreciated, having lost one of her favorite blouses to its being yanked open by another conquest – she kissed the pulse point on Remy’s neck before nibbling it slightly. 

The doctor pulled away. “Eh,” she said playfully, placing her finger against the girl’s lips, “Work.”

The blonde chuckled. “Touché,” she muttered, as she unsnapped Remy’s black lace bra and began to occupy her mouth on Remy’s pert breasts, lazily dragging her tongue around one of the nipples and sucking.

Remy let out a moan at the welcome distraction. She hardly said a word to her hookups normally beyond that which was obligatory for getting from point A to point B. Or for demanding what she wanted sexually. But there was never playful banter like that. As the blonde ran her tongue down her torso towards her belly button, Remy pushed her back flat against the bed and slid back from straddling her to settle herself between her legs. Before the blonde could protest the change in activities, Remy pinned her hips down against the mattress, leaned down, and ran her tongue broad and flat right through the blonde’s lips, earning a cry of pleasure. As she continued to fuck her, Remy grinned to herself when she felt the girl tangle her fingers through her golden brown tresses, trying to push Remy’s mouth where she wanted it most.

Far from moving to obey, Remy placed her mouth everywhere but that spot – sucking, licking, teasing. When she tired of that game, she traced her tongue in firm circles around the blonde’s clit, moving faster and faster until she became undone.

“Fuck!”

Sitting up and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Remy looked down with a satisfied smile at the panting woman lying with eyes closed against her silky tan sheets. As she stood up to go wash up, though, she felt a hand grab her hip. Turning around, the blonde’s bright blue eyes pierced hers. “Your turn.”

~*~Page Break~*~~*~Page Break~*~~*~Page Break~*~~*~Page Break~*~~*~Page Break~*~

The aftermath was always the awkward part. Sure, Remy had been in her fair share of relationships – male and female. That protocol was always the same. Some post-coital cuddling before drifting off to sleep tangled with one another. Sometimes a clean up shower, usually together and in actuality with very little “showering.” One-night stands weren’t the same. She didn’t want sleepovers. Didn’t want a kiss goodbye. Again, quite luckily, the woman seemed to be on a similar page and, after they both had recovered enough in silence, she stood up and slipped back on her underwear and pants, checking her pockets for her keys and phone. “I’m going to head out,” she explained, still topless as her tank was in the other room, “New job tomorrow.” Remy nodded but didn’t move, silently explaining that the blonde could see herself out. “Um, okay, well, this has been fun.” She took a step before turning back. “Uh, call me?”

Okay, clearly not on the same page. “Uh, yeah, sure. I will.”

The blonde smirked. “My number might be helpful for that. May I?” she asked, pointing to Remy’s phone on the nightstand.

“Oh yeah, here.” The brunette quickly typed in her passcode and tossed the cell to the girl’s awaiting hand. She quickly typed in the information and tossed it back on to the bed. Remy caught a glimpse of the contact name. Sawyer.

“Cool, well, have a good night,” the blonde said with a small smile and wave before she exited the bedroom. A minute or so later, Remy heard her front door open and close shut. She picked up her phone and looked at the contact again once more, debating just deleting it. Knowing she would never actually call the blonde back, she figured why not and swiped her finger to remove it. Standing up, she headed into the bathroom to wash up. She was exhausted and still slightly drunk but, knowing just how much her job teetered on the line, figured it was at least the semi-responsible thing to do. Turning on her shower, she walked over to the sink to brush her teeth while the water warmed up. As she smeared a bit of toothpaste on to the brush, she looked at her reflection. Her eyes had some fairly dark circles under them, but it was nothing that a little bit of foundation wouldn’t work its magic on. She’d down a water bottle and some ibuprofen before dozing off to ensure that she didn’t have a hangover in the morning. The only marks on her skin were some red-ish purple hickies on her cleavage. As long as she didn’t wear a low-cut shirt, she would be fine. Sighing, she finished up her teeth and hopped into the shower. 

~*~Page Break~*~~*~Page Break~*~~*~Page Break~*~~*~Page Break~*~~*~Page Break~*~

Remy was completely exhausted but, as pleasantly expected, not hung over the next morning. She skipped her normal coffee route and left her apartment a few minutes early. With everything that had happened, she didn’t quite want to risk being late for work, and she figured that if she was the first one there, she could prepare the coffee as strong as she liked. She chuckled bitterly at the memory that just a few weeks ago she would hardly touch anything caffeinated to avoid any sort of tremors. Fuck if she cared now.

Fifteen minutes later, she pulled into the Princeton-Plainsboro’s parking lot and sighed. What had started as drizzling when she left her apartment had quickly changed into actual rain, and she stupidly hadn’t grabbed her umbrella. Figuring waiting it out wouldn’t help much, Remy exited the car and ran towards the entrance of the hospital, quickly making it to a dry sanctuary. A few steps into the lobby, however, Remy felt her heels losing friction with the tile floor. She stumbled forward in an attempt to regain her footing and would have been successful if she hadn’t collided with a body walking by in the opposite direction. Both parties landed on the ground with an unceremonious thud. Remy scrambled back to her feet and stood upon carefully, brushing off her slacks. “Jeez, I’m so sorry,” Remy began to apologize, “I didn’t realize the floor was so slippery. Are you— ” Remy stopped short as she looked up and was met with bright blue eyes.

Shit.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think – I especially appreciate feedback at the beginning of a new story.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: If I owned House M.D., I wouldn’t still have student loans. Some dialogue taken from “Joy” (Season 5, Episode 6)

 

Chapter 2

 

Remy’s heart must have skipped a beat or two when she realized the person that she had just collided with was none other than the same woman that had been in her bed less than ten hours before. What the hell…

 

“Um, Remy. Hey,” the girl responded, running her fingers through her cropped hair, which Remy noticed was a bit less disheveled than it had been at the bar. She cleaned up well- Remy shook that thought out of her head and instead focused back on the blonde’s face, which was giving her a boyish smile.

 

“Uh, hi. What are you doing here, uh…” Remy trailed off. Shit, what was her name.

 

The blonde chuckled and shook her head. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t be expecting that phone call. Sawyer,” she provided. She held up the lapel of her lab coat. “And new job, remember?” she added with a sheepish grin.

 

“Oh, well that’s um,” Remy stuttered out, clearly flustered. Shit Hadley, get yourself together, she thought to herself.

 

“Unexpected?” Sawyer asked, quirking a dark blonde eyebrow.

 

“Um, yeah,” Remy relented, forcing an awkward grin as she tried to plan an escape route.

 

The blonde appeared to understand. “Well, what’s your department?”

 

“Diagnostics.”

 

“Huh, the infamous Dr. House’s team. Cool. Well, I’m a resident over in pediatrics so, avoid having any children as patients and we should be all good,” Sawyer joked. She seemed nice enough – Remy imagined a run-in with many of her other hookups would not have gone so smooth. “I, uh, should head upstairs,” Sawyer added, flicking a thumb backwards at the elevator. “Give it a couple of minutes, and we can avoid an awkward elevator ride together.” She smirked before spinning on the heel of her oxford shoes and heading over to her destination. Remy sighed in relief, running her fingers through her hair.

 

“31!” she heard a familiar gruff voice yell out.

 

Furrowing her brow, she turned towards the clinic, where House was exiting. She glanced down at her watch. “What the hell are you doing here? It’s only ten.”

 

“Consult with Cuddy,” House explained straight-faced. “She’s trying to have a baby and needed some assistance if you know what I mean,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. Remy scoffed at the jest. “So, who’s your friend?” House asked with a smirk.

 

“It’s no one, House. I slipped on the floor on my way in and bumped into her.”

 

“It looked like you guys have bumped into each other in more ways than one.”

 

Deciding that his suggestion didn’t necessitate a response, Remy shook her head in disgust and headed towards the elevator, sighing as she heard the clicking cane in her pursuit. House stepped into the unfortunately empty elevator after her – not that anyone else’s presence was likely to stop his teasing. He was surprisingly quiet for a few moments, standing there innocently until the elevator was almost closed. At this point, he said – quite loudly – “She’s a lot more dyke-y than your usual pick but still. Nice.”

 

~*~Page Break~*~~*~Page Break~*~~*~Page Break~*~~*~Page Break~*~~*~Page Break~*~

 

House’s actual conversation with Cuddy was revealed a few minutes into the team’s attempted DDX, when he began taking bets on how long it would take her to back out of her adoption arrangement. Normally, Remy would have chided House for his blatant violation of the administrator’s privacy (not that it was ever effective), but today more than ever she appreciated the distraction from her own personal life. Of course there had been House’s comments in the elevator, and this was soon after coupled with Kutner ogling the one mark on her chest that became visible with her top disheveled from her earlier mishap.

 

Ugh, what a mishap. Remy couldn’t believe it. Only someone with her ill-fated luck would wind up not only sleeping with a new PPTH resident, but would promptly run (quite literally) into her immediately upon entering the building. She could only be grateful that the current patient was, in fact, an adult and that she could hopefully avoid pediatrics for the foreseeable future. She mentally noted to check the clinic schedule to make sure that she and Sawyer weren’t on the same rounds…

 

House’s instructions interrupted her from her thoughts. “Check his homes for toxins and his bones for thrombosis-es.” Perfect – an escape from the hospital. Quickly declaring that she would search the patient’s house, she wasted no time in leading Taub out of the building.

 

“You’re in a rush,” Taub observed, suspicion lacing his tone.

 

“Yeah, well, I for one didn’t want to be around when Cuddy saw the white board, did you?” the brunette lied.

 

“So you’re avoiding Cuddy?”

 

“I’m not avoiding Cuddy. I’m avoiding getting caught up in Cuddy’s business,” Remy responded, clicking the button on her car key’s remote.

 

“From the looks it this morning,” Taub said, gesturing to Remy’s now covered chest, “it seems like you got into someone’s business.”

 

Remy’s eyes widened at his (accurate) insinuation, and she scoffed before hopping into the driver’s seat. “Let’s go.”

 

~*~Page Break~*~~*~Page Break~*~~*~Page Break~*~~*~Page Break~*~~*~Page Break~*~

 

“Exposure to certain kinds of mold can cause short-term memory loss,” Remy explained as she swabbed Samantha’s throat. “We’re testing both of you.”

 

“I feel fine,” the young girl responded with flat affect.

 

“I’m sure you are. We’re just being cautious.” Mostly curious, Remy decided to make small talk with Samantha, figuring it would also ease the girl’s nerves – not that it appeared as though she had any. “So where do you guys go besides home and school?” she asked as she examined the patient’s eyes with an otoscope

 

“Nowhere. Dad works at home, and I go to school.”

 

“What about sports… friends… travel?”

 

“Like I said, Dad works at home, and I go to school.”

 

Remy stopped herself from furrowing her brows in confusion, not wanting to make Samantha uncomfortable by her own discomfort with the odd duo. What in the world was wrong with this family? Reaching up to check the girl’s lymph nodes, she tried to rationalize. “Must be hard not having your mom around, huh?”

 

“I was only four when the accident happened.”

 

“Still, I’m sure you both miss her sometimes,” Remy prodded. There had to be some empathy in this kid. Even Remy, who hated her mother growing up, went through times in which she missed her – even if what she was missing was more of a nostalgic hope for the kind of mother that she wished she had.

 

“Not really.”

 

Remy paused, pulling away slightly. “You’re strong,” she justified, more for her own comfort than Samantha’s now.

 

“No, I just don’t get what the big deal is about death, you know?” Samantha replied, deep brown eyes dull.

 

Remy couldn’t help but let her mouth gape open slightly. If anything, these past couple of months had been showing her just how big of a deal death was. Amber. Her own. She swallowed.

 

“Yeah.”

 

~*~Page Break~*~~*~Page Break~*~~*~Page Break~*~~*~Page Break~*~~*~Page Break~*~

 

“Ryan Holts is ready for discharge,” Sawyer relayed to the nurses with a smile as she handed over the manila patient file. While an exhausted grimace seemed more common for practitioners in pediatrics at PPTH, she couldn’t help but display her excitement. After working her ass off to graduate from Columbia with top marks, finally starting her residency put the young blonde in a good mood. Well, that and getting laid the night before, Sawyer thought to herself with a smirk.

 

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem as though Sawyer was going to enjoy a repeat performance in that regard. Disappointing for sure – the brunette was damn good in bed in addition to being intriguing – but things were what they were. Besides, she and Remy were sort of colleagues now – at the very least, working in the same location. Her grandmother always warned her about mixing business and pleasure (not that she tended to listen).

 

Turning the corner, she headed towards her next patient check-in, however she paused when she noticed a familiar figure in one of the exam rooms. Remy Hadley was examining a pre-teen girl who looked less than amused to be there. Not that hospitals were most people’s favorite place. Sawyer watched as the doctor attempted – at least as far as she could see – to connect with the girl, unsuccessfully. When Remy got up to leave the room, Sawyer figured she should saunter off, but decided to play it risky. After all, not much could be more awkward than their morning encounter.

 

“Hey, I thought you were going to try to avoid having any kids as patients,” the blonde joked, capturing the slightly older woman’s attention.

 

“Not our patient. His daughter,” Remy explained distractedly. Sawyer frowned. Something seemed up with the doctor. Was their tryst really bothering her that much? Sawyer figured she’d let her off the hook.

 

“Ah got you. Well, have a good one,” Sawyer said as she turned on her heel to head to her patient’s room. She got all but two steps in before Remy’s voice interrupted her.

 

“Sawyer, wait.” The blonde turned back cautiously, meeting the unreadable cerulean eyes before her. Remy surveyed the area, finding that the couple other people present were focused on their own business. “Hey look, I don’t want things to be weird between us. I know I made it awkward. But, we’re adults. I don’t want you to feel the need to jump into a janitor’s closet if we bump into each other.”

 

“I’d certainly rather be pushing you into the janitor’s closet with me,” Sawyer thought naughtily, but she nodded. “Hey, I’m cool if you’re cool,” she responded, earning a small smile from the brunette. “So, how is she?” she added, gesturing towards the exam room Remy had just been in.

 

“Physically, she’s fine. Mentally, she’s weird.”

 

“I’m sure she’s just freaked out about her...” Sawyer furrowed her brows before pointing over Remy’s shoulder. “Isn’t that your patient?” 

 

Remy turned to see Jerry Harmon standing in front of the elevators, staring blankly. Perplexed, she and Sawyer walked towards him. “Mr. Harmon? Mr. Harmon? Where are you going?” the brunette asked, stepping in front of the elevator to prevent the man from entering.

 

“I have an appointment. I have to go.”

 

“We haven’t finished with your treatment. We’re still waiting on some test results.”

 

“I have an appointment,” the man responded, emotionless. 

 

Sawyer pursed her lips at the patient’s defiance. He wasn’t bulky by any means, but certainly was large enough to overpower Remy and her should he become agitated. As much as the wannabe-butch side of the blonde wanted to believe she could take him, she knew that with her lanky frame, it would be futile. “Do you want me to get someone?” she asked Remy, hushed.

 

Remy shook her head slowly, examining Jerry more closely. “Mr. Harmon, do you know where you are?”

 

Sawyer stepped forward, observing the blank look in the man’s eyes. “Look at his eyes,” she started, flashing a pen light in front of them.

 

“Is he having a seizure?”

 

“His pupils are responsive. I think he’s… asleep. Nurse!” she called out to one of the men passing by. “Can you please help, Re- Dr. Hadley escort this patient back to his room?” The younger man nodded and moved to assist them as Remy paged the rest of the team. Before she followed Jerry and the nurse into the elevator, Sawyer gently grabbed her arm, and the brunette turned, slightly confused. “Hey, um, if things aren’t weird between us, do you think we could grab coffee sometime…” Remy shot her a confused glare. “Oh no, not like that,” Sawyer clarified with a smirk, “You just really need to fill me in on this case.”

 

A/N: Thoughts?


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Alas, my broke ass does not own House M.D.

A/N: Haven’t received much feedback on this – are folks interested in this story continuing?

Chapter 3

Sawyer drummed her finger tips against the wooden table top. She was nervous. 

She also had no reason to be nervous. 

After all, it was just coffee. Between two colleagues. Colleagues who just happened to have hooked up with several days prior. The blonde sighed heavily and slumped back in her chair. She really had to collect herself. After all, it had just been casual sex. It wasn’t as though she was pining after the mysterious brunette. She got the message in the hotel lobby earlier in the week. There wouldn’t be a repeat performance. Plus she had enough on her plate with a new job – she didn’t need to add General Hospital-level drama to her life right now.

Sawyer glanced down at her watch – 4:23. They were supposed to have met up at 4. It was clear Remy wasn’t coming. Perhaps she should have expected that. She didn’t fully know why she proposed this coffee date – well, meet up – in the first place. God she needed to meet some local friends who weren’t so complicated.

Sliding her chair back, she downed the last bit of her cappuccino and stood to return the mug to the barista before leaving. Just as she was tossing her messenger bag over her shoulder, however, the bell on the café’s door chimed signaling the enter of the older doctor. Sawyer swallowed – she couldn’t help but notice how attractive the women was. Remy’s long golden brown hair hung over the shoulders of a slim-fitted navy blue Henley shirt that made her enthralling eyes, framed by cat-eyed liner, even more vibrant. The shirt was tucked into skinny black trousers, which were being held up with leather suspenders, and she wore a pair of modest black heels that flattered her well-defined legs and bottom.

As Sawyer was shaking herself back into the present moment, Remy sauntered over to the table. “Hey, sorry I’m late,” the brunette offered casually, “I had to finish something.” Sawyer suppressed the look of confusion from the doctor’s vague explanation. Could the woman be any more unnecessarily elusive? Figuring it was none of her business to begin with, Sawyer decided to let it go.

“No worries. Do you want something?” she said, gesturing towards the coffee bar.

“Oh yeah, I’m just going to grab an expresso,” Remy replied, moving to stand. 

Sawyer held up a hand in gentle protest. “I’ve got it. I’m going to go get some tea anyway.”

Remy grimaced and Sawyer briefly wondered if she had overstepped by offering to buy her a coffee, but the blonde ultimately decided that was stupid. After all, she was honestly just being friendly. Plus the brunette had bought her a couple of shots the other night – although that had certainly had an ulterior motive…

In the end, Remy nodded. “Thanks – I owe you one next time,” she said, practically expressionless. This time Sawyer couldn’t help but furrow her brows. Next time?

-page break--page break--page break--page break--page break--page break--page break-

Remy sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. What the hell was she thinking with suggesting a next time? That was literally the last thing that she wanted – casual non-sexual get togethers. It was too nebulous. Too date like. And yet, here she was, almost unconsciously offering. She’d have to finagle her way out of that one later.

The sound of a saucer being placed in front of her made her look up. Sawyer offered a small smile as she returned to her seat, sitting down with her own mug. There was a brief awkward silence before the blonde spoke. “So, how did the rest of the sleep walking case go?”

“Familial Mediterranean Fever. Turns out they were both Middle Eastern,” Remy relayed, taking a sip of the bitter liquid in front of her.

Sawyer’s eyes brightened, clearly intrigue. “Huh, interesting. And they didn’t include that in their medical history?”

“You’ll learn very quickly that patients lie.” And people, Remy added in her head.

“Oh I’ve noticed my fair share of that already. After a few of my ER rotations back in med school, I quickly learned just how many people claim to have accidently “fallen” on various objects that ended up in their orifices. Totally ruined my trust of mankind,” the blonde joked. “Not that I had much faith in it already,” she added with a tight grin.

Remy chuckled. “You’d get along with House. It’s crazy the lengths some people will go to though. Like a few weeks ago we had this painter come in. He was enrolled in multiple drug trials at once – which of course was a brilliant idea that he failed to inform us of because he was hiding it from his partner. He wound up having a bezoar in his stomach from an experimental antacid. It was the size of a palm. House was disappointed it didn’t beat the hospital record.”

“Jeez, that’s crazy. What did his partner do?”

“She stayed with him as far as I know. I doubt it’ll last though.”

Sawyer nodded. “You never know though. I’ve seen people do some crazy things for love.”

“Oh don’t tell me you’re a hopeless romantic,” Remy japed, rolling her eyes.

“Me? Nah. I’m more the broody, heartbreaker type,” the blonde replied, trying to keep a straight face.

“Oh yeah, I totally believe that,” Remy said sarcastically, causing the two to laugh. As their giggles subsided, they found themselves just looking at each other. Remy hadn’t felt this carefree in a while. Not even while intoxicated or high. She noticed that Sawyer had a dimple on her left cheek and almost smiled at how cute it made the boyish blonde look. This is what ultimately brought the older doctor out of her revelry, and she straightened in her seat, uncomfortable.

The brunette cleared her throat. “Yeah, so. That was that. Treated them both with colchicine and melphalan. The daughter was able to donate a kidney.”

Sawyer seemed confused by Remy’s sudden change in demeanor, but thankfully, she went along with it.

“Huh, well, it seems like it was an interesting case,” she replied somewhat uncomfortably before looking down at her tea. 

Remy nodded soberly. “Yeah. Yeah it was.” The brunette sighed internally, a bit of guilt getting to her as she noted the blonde’s lackluster response. Remy realized she really was being a bitch – after all, she had told the poor girl that she wouldn’t make things more awkward. And here she was doing just that. In an attempt to salvage the conversation, the brunette added, “I mean, I guess it was sort of wild too because House had us score cocaine.”

The blonde practically spat out her drink and her eyes widened once more in cheerful curiosity. “What? Seriously?”

Remy chuckled. “Yeah, turns out the patient liked to play in the snow when he was sleepwalking. So House wanted us to test a sample.”

“Wow, I’m assuming that task was probably left out of your job description,” Sawyer joked. “Did you have any leftovers?” she added with a mischievous grin.

Remy stopped herself from grimacing. “Thought about it but then decided I’ve gotten myself into enough trouble at the hospital lately.” As soon as she said it, she chided herself mentally for revealing such a fact. “Why, are you in to that?” the older doctor added, hoping to draw attention away from her slip.

“Nah, not my thing,” Sawyer said, leaning back slightly in her chair. “Although I do enjoy hanging out with my friend Mary Jane from time to time.”

Remy quirked an eye brow. “Is that so?”

Sawyer nodded, eyes gleaming devilishly. “Are you into that?”

-page break--page break--page break--page break--page break--page break--page break-

Sawyer struggled to catch her breath as she fell back against her couch laughing, crossed legs flying up in the air. “You didn’t!”

Remy sat across from her, still holding the bowl she had taken yet another hit from. “Yup, we hooked up while he was at football practice. And then one day he came home to find me in bed with his sister. He really should’ve guessed. I hung out in her room all of the time when he and I were dating.”

“Remy Hadley, you converter you.”

“Oh please, judging from the fact that you look like Shane without the terrible early millennial style, I’m guessing you’ve been with your fair share of straight girls.”

“Maybe a couple… dozen,” Sawyer quipped, causing the two to laugh hysterically again. “I blame my Gram though. She’s the one who sent me to all-girls school.”

“Yeah I went to Sarah Lawrence, which based on the fact that almost all of the male students are gay, for all intensive purposes isn’t all that co-ed.”

“Sarah Lawrence. How artsy hipster dyke of you.” 

Remy smiled and pushed Sawyer’s arm teasingly – and the blonde couldn’t help but notice that the brunette’s fingers remained gently clasped around her bicep, eliciting a chill down her spine.

“You’re literally wearing flannel right now. You’re one to talk about stereotypes,” Remy quipped, her fingers massaging the soft plaid fabric. Anyway, where did you go to school?”

“For undergrad? Vanderbilt.”

“Down South?”

Sawyer nodded. “Yeah, my Gram and Pop are from Tennessee and I moved in with them when I was a kid. The South was… well, interesting. But I fell in love with Vanderbilt and was determined to go there since I was like ten,” she explained, taking another hit.

Remy bore an odd expression. “You grew up with your grandparents?”

Sawyer breathed out a puff of smoke. “Umm, yeah. My mom left a few months after I was born. And my dad, well, he tried his best. But he died when I was eight. OD.”

Remy grimaced. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried.”

“Hey, no worries. It’s not like some big secret or anything. Who doesn’t have some degree of a dysfunctional childhood?” she joked darkly. Remy was quiet but forced a tight smile. The blonde tried to lighten the mood. “But yeah, I’m a Jersey rat transferred down to the South. So now I’m just returning to my roots in the lovely Garden State,” she said with a smug grin, laying back with her hands behind her head.

Remy scoffed. “A Jersey kid at heart? Explains the lack of Southern charm,” she teased.

Sawyer mocked affront. “Hey! I’ll have you know I can be very charming.”

“Oh yeah?” Remy asked, leaning over the blonde.

“Why, Dr. Hadley, I suggest that you keep a mind to your citified assumptions because I reckon y’all will find me as Southern and sweet as a Georgia peach,” Sawyer crooned in her best Southern accent before the two broke into laughter.

“How convincing,” the brunette said mockingly, looking down at the blonde she was hovering over. Remy paused for a second before she leaned down and met her parted lips.

The kiss was soft and languid at first, the mix of the comfort of the situation and the weed coursing through both of their systems. But it quickly became more heated. Remy straddled Sawyer, holding both sides of the younger doctor’s face in her palms, moaning as the blonde’s fingertips drew themselves gently up her sides under her shirt. Moving her lips down the base of Sawyer’s neck to her collarbone, Remy started to unbutton the flannel shirt when she felt the blonde’s hands stop her. She looked up at Sawyer’s face to find her face full of various emotions, several undiscernible. The clearest was a cloudy sort of confusion.

“Remy – wait. We can’t. Not like this. We’re both high.”

Remy froze before dropping the girl’s lapels and practically jumping off of her. “I should go,” she said quickly, slipping on her heels.

Sawyer sat up, still dazed by the whole situation. “Wait, Remy. I didn’t mean – I just didn’t want to – you know, like this. I didn’t want you to regret it…” She reached out but Remy was already off the couch and halfway to the door.

“No, it’s fine. Umm, I’ll see you at the hospital.” And with that, she left.

Fuck, Sawyer groaned, falling back on to the couch, more confused than ever.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own House M.D.

Chapter 4

Fuck, Remy groaned as she fell back against her bed.

What the hell was wrong with her?

Only a week ago, she hadn’t planned on seeing Sawyer ever again. Then suddenly she found herself not only colleagues with the younger doctor– not only out for coffee with her, but on her couch getting high and then kissing her. Being colleagues wasn’t under her control. Deciding to go out for coffee together was. Remy wanted to argue that the weed had skewed her judgment and that kissing the blonde was an intoxicated slip. In actuality, it was more just a slip of her sanity.

Sighing, Remy pulled open the bag of potato chips that she had brought with her for a case of the munchies. She wished that was the only thing that she was hungry for.

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Sawyer stared down at the text message she had typed on her phone, reviewing it for what must have been the tenth time in the past several minutes.

Hey Remy – I’m sorry about yesterday. Let’s just forget it happened? –S

Was the S too personal? Too impersonal? Sawyer groaned, pressing back against the mental lockers. 

What the hell was wrong with her?

She hadn’t been this stupid about communicating with a girl since high school. She and Remy had joked the day prior about her being a heartbreaker, and while she certainly was no Casanova, she had had her fair share of casual hookups without nearly as much stress as this situation was causing. She usually had a handle on things – at the very least on herself. And yet last night she found herself laying wide awake wondering why the older woman had kissed her.

Just as Sawyer was deleting the text in order to try drafting a new one, she heard the door of the locker room open and the click of heels. Peeking around the corner of the lockers, she saw Remy entering the room. Great. Quickly, she turned and re-opened her locker, attempting to look busy on something other than her phone in case the brunette happened to walk by.

A few moments later, Remy walked into her row of lockers and practically froze. “Um, hey,” she said finally, clearing her throat.

Just be cool, Sawyer thought to herself. Low and behold, as she tried to both turn and close the locker door while retaining some semblance of suavity, she found her forehead connecting with the metal corner, a clamor radiating through the locker room. “Jesus!” she exclaimed, grabbing her head.

Remy’s cat-like eyes widened, and she stepped towards the blonde – awkwardness temporarily forgotten. “Shit, are you okay?” she asked concerned, gently grabbing the blonde’s wrist and tugging it so she could see her head.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine,” Sawyer said, trying to play it off. When she removed her palm from her head, however, she felt a stickiness drip onto her eyebrow.

“You’re bleeding,” Remy said, lowering Sawyer’s palm so the blonde could see the pool of blonde pooled in the center of her hand. “Here, sit down.”

“Remy, it’s no big— “ she called out to the brunette as she turned the corner, before sighing and slumping onto a nearby bench. Excellent. This is just excellent. Sawyer heard the faucet running and a couple of moments later, Remy came back with some damp paper towels in hand.

“Move your hand,” she instructed, pressing the cloth to Sawyer’s forehead.

“Thanks,” the blonde said sheepishly. “I can handle it from here. I don’t want you to be late.”

“It’s no big deal. House won’t be in for another hour or two anyway,” Remy offered with a small grin, applying more pressure to the location. Sawyer winced. “It hurt bad?”

“Not as bad as the time I got kicked in the head by a mule,” Sawyer quipped. When Remy’s eyes widened, she chuckled. “I told you. Country kid.” Remy smiled and shook her head, and the two remained silent for a few minutes. “Rem-“ Sawyer began softly.

“I’m going to pull back on the paper towel and check the wound,” Remy interrupted bruskly. The blonde bit her lip to avoid wincing as the older doctor pulled back the material. She remained that way to stay calm under the gaze of the brunette as she closely examined her.

“Well, I think you’re gonna make it,” Remy said with a smirk. “It doesn’t look like you need any stitches –“ She stood and opened her locker, pulling out a small first aid kit and removing some antiseptic and a butterfly bandage. After cleaning the wound and fixing the bandage, the brunette looked down. “You have some blood on your shirt. You’re going to need to change.”

“I’ll grab some scrubs from the nurses station –“

“You don’t have a change of clothes in your locker.” Sawyer shook her head. Remy returned to her locker and placed the first aid kit back inside. She grabbed one of her spare shirts and tossed it at the blonde. “Here, you can borrow this.”

“You don’t have to –“

“Really, it’s no big deal. The scrubs are pink and that really isn’t your color,” she said with a smirk.

“Try and tell my Gram that,” Sawyer replied with a chuckle. “Well, thank you, Dr. Hadley,” she added, holding up the shirt in acknowledgment.

“No problem. Just try to avoid livestock and storage containers and you should be fine.”

“Haha. You are so funny,” Sawyer quipped, rolling her eyes.

Remy gave her a sly grin. “Well, I’m going to head up. See you.” She turned on her heels and had about rounded the corner when Sawyer thought, To hell with it.

“Remy, wait!” The brunette popped her head around the corner, a curious expression on her face. “We’re cool right?”

Remy pursed her lips for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, yeah of course.”

“Okay, good. Because I like spending time with you,” Sawyer offered. “You know, as a friend and all,” she added quickly.

Remy gave her a small smile. “Yeah, I do too.” With that, she left the locker room and a very confused blonde behind.

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Remy watched from across the hall as Sofia’s parents approached their crying daughter. After everything they had been through, after living through what was probably one of a parents’ worst nightmare – the loss of their child caused by their other child – they were still there. Holding her. Crying with her. Comforting her.

They not only loved her. They forgave her.

It was something Remy couldn’t understand. When her mom had gotten sick, she had tried to understand at first. But she was just a kid. She didn’t know why her mother, who had been very affectionate to her and her brother and sister when they were younger, had so quickly turned to screaming at them. Screaming at herself. Ignoring them on the good days and doing much worse on the bad. Almost subconsciously, she pressed her fingers against the scar on her cheek.

Her dad had tried. He had tried to explain it to the three of them that their mom was sick, that she didn’t mean her harsh actions or words. That she was losing control of her mind and her body and that she couldn’t help it.

But that hadn’t helped Remy. And she found herself becoming more and more withdrawn from everyone – her mother, her father, her younger sister Amy who really couldn’t understand. The only person she had was John. She and her brother would sit in silence in his room listening as their mother thrashed and yelled and knocked objects off of tables.

The day Remy’s mother was taken to the nursing home, she didn’t say goodbye. She didn’t want to. As far as the nine-year-old was concerned, her mother may be living but any connection she had to her was broken at best.

“You’re going to regret this the rest of your life,” her father had told her the last day she ever saw her mother alive.

She did.

She did even though she didn’t always know it. And that is why no matter how hard he tried to be there for her in spite of his own grief, there was no comfort from her father after her mother’s death. No holding her. No crying with her. Remy knew he didn’t forgive her either.

The brunette was brought back into the present moment when Kutner addressed her. “I’m surprised House got her to let him call them.”

Remy swallowed heavily, straining her voice of emotion. “Are you?”

Kutner shrugged. “I guess not. I mean, all kids need their parents. Plus it’s House.” Remy nodded solemnly, earning a curious look from her colleague. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine. Just tired,” the woman lied. “I’m going to head out.”

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It was late. Sawyer had pulled the short straw and wound up having to stay at the hospital overtime to deal with a multiple car pile up in the ER. After that, she was so hopped up on caffeine that she had decided to stay and finish up some backed up patient files. Now it was past 1 am and the hospital seemed empty all but for the custodial staff and those on duty.

Sawyer yawned and opened her locker, pulling out her messenger bag. She shoved some extra files into it to work on over the weekend. Just as she was about to close the locker, she noticed a fallen piece of fabric on the floor. Remy’s shirt. She had originally left it in her locker a few days ago to return to the brunette, but then stupidly realized that she should probably wash it first. And then with the hecticness of work, she had forgotten. Picking up the tee, she couldn’t help but press it to her nose before she stuffed it in her bag. It still smelt like her. Pathetic, the blonde thought to herself. She had realized after their interaction earlier in the week that she perhaps had a little crush on the older doctor, but that was it. Now her she was smelling the remnants of her perfume on a dirty shirt.

Shaking her head, Sawyer swung her messenger bag over her shoulder and closed the locker, heading for the door. As she was passing the women’s toilets, however, she heard a soft noise that stopped her in her tracks. Was somebody crying? Walking around the privacy wall into the bathroom area, Sawyer peered under the stalls to see a pair of feet occupying one of them. That and the now distinct sound of crying made her realize she was not in fact alone in the locker room. Sawyer contemplated slipping back out of the restroom and just heading home. After all, if she was crying in a bathroom stall, she probably wouldn’t want to be bothered. Ultimately, however, her empathetic side one out, and the young doctor gently knocked on the occupied stall. “Um, hi. Sorry to interrupt but I just wanted to see if you’re alright?” she addressed the stranger.

She heard the person sniffle, clearly attempting to stop her sobs. “Fine” was the simple response.

She knew that voice.

“Remy?”

A couple moments later, the blonde heard the latch to the stall opening, and she stepped back, brow furrowed with confusion. Remy stepped out, expression unreadable. Sawyer noticed, however, that her eyes were still slightly red and puffy.

“Sawyer.”

“Wha-“ Before she could speak, Sawyer found the brunette pushing her backwards into one of the shower stalls, mouth pressed firmly against hers. Back pushed up against the tile, Sawyer struggled to gather what in the world was happening, but she returned Remy’s fierce kisses, grabbing the brunette’s hips. She gently pushed her backwards.

“Remy, what is – “

“Do you want to fuck me?”

“What? Remy you were just crying – “

The older doctor pressed her finger against Sawyer’s lips, silencing her. “Do you want to fuck me?”

Sawyer knew it was probably a bad idea. After all, she hardly even knew what was going on. Then again, most of her ideas when it came to Remy seemed to be bad. What was another one? Especially when the extremely attractive woman’s curves were pressed against her frame, lips turning red from their heated kisses, breath heavy.

Fuck it.

[M-content in bold] Sawyer parted her lips, sucking Remy’s fingertip seductively into her mouth. She flipped the two of them so that Remy was against the wall, hands pinned above her head. Reaching clumsily behind her, Sawyer pulled the curtain shut, just in case.

Meanwhile, Remy had broken free of her grasp and was sucking on the side of her neck. Sawyer thought briefly about protesting, but then figured it was cold enough for her to wear a turtle neck the next day without raising suspicion. Instead she moaned from the contact, moving her hands under Remy’s shirt. Fingertips brushing the lace fringe of the brunette’s bra, Sawyer pulled the plum shirt over her head, quickly unsnapping the front clasp of the bra closely after. She bit her lip at the sight of Remy’s pert breasts heaving in front of her, nipples hard and pointed. Sawyer took one of the nipples into her mouth, palming Remy’s other breast with her hand. The older doctor groaned loudly, moving her own hand to press against the front of her gray slacks. Clearly she didn’t want to waste any time.

So Sawyer wouldn’t. Licking down the center of Remy’s torso, stopping only to swirl her tongue in a circle around her navel, the blonde got on to her knees and unsnapped the brunette’s slacks, yanking them and a pair of black boy shorts down. As Remy kicked off the bottoms, Sawyer licked her lips. Grabbing Remy’s ass, she pulled the brunette’s lower half close to her face, running her tongue languidly through her folds. Fuck, she was soaked.

Sawyer plunged her tongue into the wetness as Remy gripped her platinum waves, pushing her tightly against her. When she knew she had gotten the brunette close to the edge, she felt herself being pulled up. Remy kissed her firmed as she shoved a hand down Sawyer’s pants, causing the younger woman to gasp. As Remy teased her clit, Sawyer moved her own fingers through Remy’s lips, massaging her gently until she reached her opening. Circling it with her fingertips, she looked at Remy for permission and received a clear nod before she pushed two fingers inside of her.

“Fuck,” Remy cried out, pressing her free palm against her mouth. “Yes yes!” Sawyer fucked her hard, feeling herself starting to unravel as Remy continued to apply pressure to her clit. The two panting women kissed and nipped each other’s sweaty skin with abandon. The blonde felt the brunette’s walls starting to tighten when she heard the other woman rasp out “More.”

Quirking an eyebrow, Sawyer maneuvered her ring finger so it slid into the older doctor, and she felt a new wave of wetness wash over her hand. This, in combination with one well-placed touch to her own cunt, pushed Sawyer over the edge. As she came, she continued to curl her fingers inside of the brunette, making Remy cum as well. The two pressed against one another, lowering themselves on to what probably wasn’t the most sanitary surface, not that either of them cared at the moment.

Sawyer panted, trying to catch her breath, blonde hair matted with sweat on her face. Eventually she moved off of the brunette, standing to help her up. That was the first time post-coitally that Sawyer saw her face. Tears balanced in the corners of the brunette’s eyes.

“Remy, are you okay?” Sawyer asked concerned, “Did I hurt you?” She reached up and gently ran her fingers down the side of the older doctor’s face. Remy turned her head away.

“No, I’m fine,” she said harshly. Gathering her clothes from the ground, she didn’t even look at Sawyer again as she left the stall. “I’ve got to go. Goodnight.”

A/N: Leave a quick review?


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own House M.D. Some dialogue from this chapter (like others) taken from the canon show and used for my purposes.

A/N: Favorite or review if you want me to continue? Not sure how many folks are reading and if I’m too late on the House M.D. train.

Chapter 5

The clinic was incredibly crowded. The normal sounds of coughing and groans were exacerbated by the bustle of a Monday morning in flu season rush. Only on duty for an hour, Remy had already seen a slew of patients, not that this seemed to diminish the ever-growing stack of waiting patient files at the nurses table. It didn’t help that she was nursing a slight hangover from her date with a small handle of vodka the prior evening.

Quickly maneuvering out of an exam room, Remy was met with a patient complaining about his wait for a migraine medication prescription, one who was testing the last of her fraying nerves. She just wanted the day to be over, so she could return home and curl back up in bed. The fates of the universe, however, didn’t seem to want to make that easy.

“Got a minute?” Remy didn’t bother to turn her attention away from the file in front of her at the deep sound of her colleague’s voice.

“No,” she replied flippantly before addressing the nurse. “Routine checkup can wait. What else you got?

Foreman, however, was nothing if not persistent. “I’m consulting on some clinical trials that involve C.N.S. compounds.”

Remy tried to direct her primary attention to the new file. She anticipated where this conversation was going, and she preferred to keep her impeding doom as far off her mind as possible. “While it’s true that ‘no’ sometimes means ‘yes,’ in this context –“

“One’s a new Huntington’s drug,” Foreman continued with a frustrated sigh, moving closer to the brunette. “Phase 3 trials are showing real results delaying neuronal degeneration. Probably could get you in.”

Remy paused, grounding herself. Forcing a smile onto her face, she turned to finally face Foreman. “No thanks,” she said quickly, before rushing off to avoid both him and the thought of Huntington’s.

Foreman followed her, irritation evident. “Are you doing anything about your disease? Following any type of program?”

Remy chuckled bitterly to herself. The man sure had a lot of gall. “No, nor am I looking for a consult,” she replied harshly before finally leaving Foreman in the lurch as she went into the next examining room.

She exhaled heavily, however, when she saw who was waiting for her outside of that door. The woman she had efforted – with much success – to avoid for the past week. “I have to work,” she told the blonde flatly.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” the blonde said, a mix of confusion and irritation clear in her voice.

“Yeah, I have.” Remy replied simply, as she tried to skirt around the younger doctor. “Excuse me- “

“That isn’t fair, Rem. You can’t just fu- do that and then leave with no explanation. And then ignore every single one of my calls.”

Remy sighed heavily, exasperated. “Yeah, you’re right,” she said emotionless, “Don’t worry. That won’t be happening again.” She met Sawyer’s eyes fiercely but weakened in resolve when she was met with stormy blue. “I have a patient. I have to go,” she managed, slipping past the blonde’s lanky frame and shutting the door.

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Fuck her, Sawyer thought to herself as she stormed into the elevator to head to the pediatric wing. Finding herself alone, she let out a frustrated groan into the empty air as the shuttle rose to the second floor. She was confused. As far as she was concerned, if you looked in the dictionary under mixed signals, you would find Remy Hadley’s name. But she was done with it now. At the end of the day, if the older doctor wasn’t sure if she was interested, then Sawyer was sure she didn’t want to be involved.

Grabbing a file off of the nurse’s desk, she resolved that she would just focus on her job. Not friendship or anything else with the stunning brunette. After all, there were plenty of other colleagues she could connect with. Renewed objectives in mind, she greeted the eight-year-old patient and his family and headed towards the ultra sound machine. And then the alarms went off.

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The first thought Remy had when she was corralled into Cuddy’s office with the other hostages was This day keeps getting better and better. Her second thought was that her first thought was probably far too non-alarmist. Her third thought was that House was going to get them all killed.

Of course it wouldn’t be the highly rational and at least apparently sympathetic Dean of Medicine at her desk but rather the surly, arrogant son-of-a-bitch that she worked for. One who would probably prod the patient to his frayed limits just to see what would happen.

The balding patient (well, criminal) started barking orders at everyone, telling them to close the blinds and move the furniture in front of all entrances and exits. While everyone else followed instructions, House wasted little time in resisting compliance. Remy tried to reason with him, but of course his sarcastic jibs came through.

“You really think reenacting Dog Day Afternoon is the best way to get diagnosed?” the surly doctor asked when the patient presented his medical records. “I’m sure you’ve been waiting for hours in an uncomfortable chair but you should watch the movie all the way through.”

Remy observed carefully House and the patient interacted, trying to gather the facts of the situation. The man was clearly distraught and at the end of his rope. She didn’t doubt for a second he’d use the gun in his hand without much provocation. She looked on nervously as House approached him with apathetic brazenness. Much to her surprise, rather than pulling the trigger, the patient pushed a handful of files against House’s chest, tossing his cane to the ground. Here we go, she thought to herself.

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The hospital was in complete bedlam. While many of the units had been evacuated, the patients in need of critical care had been transported upstairs as soon as ESU arrived. Sawyer now found herself maneuvering through hallways crowded with extra cots, attending to patients while trying to glean what was happening. There was a gunman on the first floor. That much was clear. The rest of the circumstances, however, remained unknown to her.

“House is going to get someone killed.”

Lifting her head at the mention of the infamous doctor’s name, Sawyer looked over to see a short, middle-aged man talking to some of his colleagues. She only recognized one of them – Dr. Alison Cameron – who was in charge of the ER.

“The guy’s ready to kill for a diagnosis. I can’t think of a better doctor to be trapped in there with him,” a younger Indian American man chimed in. Sawyer furrowed her brows. So a patient was holding House hostage for a diagnosis?

Dr. Cameron rolled her eyes. “How about someone that’s not going to keep pushing the whack job’s buttons until he cracks?” she countered, taking a file and walking down the hall. Sawyer followed in suit as casually as possible, still eavesdropping. 

The young man’s pager beeped. “It’s House,” he announced, directing the other man down the hall. Sawyer furrowed her brow. They must be the other fellows on his team. But then where was Remy… She felt her heart beat pound in her chest and willed herself to be calm. After all, the hospital was in mayhem. The brunette easily could be tending to patients in a different wing of the hospital.

The two male doctors were quick to head down the hall, but Dr. Cameron lagged slightly behind, her eyes still focused on a chart she held. Sawyer grabbed her arm gently, intercepting her. “Excuse me, Dr. Cameron?”

Slightly startled, the older blonde looked up. “Oh hi, Dr. Morris, right?”

“Umm yeah, Sawyer, please. I’m sorry to bother you, but uh- do you know what’s going on.”

“Sorry, I’m in a bit of a rush--” Dr. Cameron said apologetically, starting to walk down the hall towards where the others had gone. Sawyer quickened her pace to keep up.

“I heard it was something with Dr. House?”

“Yeah, a disgruntled patient took him and a bunch of people in the clinic hostage. He’s looking for a diagnosis.”

“So House’s team is…” Sawyer began to inquire.

“Drs. Taub and Kutner just were paged by House for a conference call. Dr. Foreman as well I’m sure. I’ve heard Dr. Hadley was working in the clinic.”

“Are you sure?” Sawyer asked, her voice betraying her anxiety at this fact. Dr. Cameron stopped, turning to look at the younger doctor curiously.

“Are you and Dr. Hadley friends?”

“Umm, yeah,” Sawyer hesitated, unsure if that was still the case, “We’re friends.”

Cameron gave her a sympathetic smile, placing a comforting arm on her bicep. “Come with me,” she instructed, “House is calling for a DDX. It couldn’t hurt to have another set of ideas.”

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House’s cell phone rang, and he leisurely flipped it open. “Joe’s Bar and Grill,” he greeted.

Remy heard a familiar gruff voice at the end of the other line. “It’s Foreman and every fellow you’ve had in the last five years. And umm…”

There was a pause before another voice chimed in. “Uh Sawyer Morris. From pediatrics.” Remy had to focus to keep her jaw from dropping, and House looked at her curiously.

“Dr. Morris, the patient we have is a middle-aged man. I’m not sure why we would need a pediatric consult,” he said, giving Remy one more sly look. Oh fuck him, she thought to herself.

“House, I brought her along. Let’s get to the medicine.” Remy, too, forced herself to try to focus.

“What causes low lung volume, heart palpitations, fatigue, stomach pain, insomnia, and a rash?” The DDX continued, as did the (intentional) desecration of Cuddy’s office as House wrote potential conditions down on the wall. The first attempt at “diagnosis” was a bust – their attempt at sneakily administering a sedative foiled. Not long after, one of the clinic patients was shot in the leg, thankfully in a non-fatal manner. Now the patient, who had revealed his hyperacusis by hearing the ESU officers outside of the window, was awaiting a dose of capsaican to confirm postherpetic neuralgia.

“Who’s taking the first dose,” Jason asked, fiddling with his pistol, clearly distrustful after the first false medication.

“Anybody here got a long-standing case of neuralgia,” House asked, preparing the syringes. “That’s killed their nerves so this won’t hurt at all.”

After a reneged offer by a teenage patient and a quick game of nose goes, Remy finally spoke out. “I’ll do it.” Avoiding House’s glare, she turned around and lifted the hem of her gray turtleneck, listening as the older doctor hobbled over behind her and began to swipe her skin with a stringent alcohol wipe.

“This is a level of risk taking beyond anonymous girl-on-girl action,” he mumbled quietly so only she could hear.

“They’re patients. I’m a doctor.”

“With a degenerative drug-unfriendly illness,” he added, piercing her skin with the needle.

Remy opened her mouth at the sting before composing herself. “Everything’s not some fascinating character flaw.”

“This is a genetic flaw. This is your Huntington’s speaking. You clearly matter to people out there,” he reasoned, clearly referencing Sawyer. “And yet here you are waving a white flag at the world.”

Remy scowled at his attempt to rationalize the situation, unwilling to accept any of his claims. “Yes, I have a shortened lifespan. Another reason why I am objectively the right choice,” she rushed out before grunting in pain, collapsing to the ground.

House stepped back and observed her pained groans before smirking. “Wow, I would have laid money you had herpes.”

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Her head was throbbing. She leaned over to support her weakening frame as she tried to balance on the MRI machine bench. The phone continued to ring.

“You had four theories. You ruled out four theories. Maybe no one can cure me.”

House grabbed the chirping telephone. “He overpowered me,” he said harshly, clearly frustrated. “He got the gun back.”

Remy gapped at his lies. “You’re a coward,” she said to him angrily, shaking her head as much as her present situation allowed, providing him with a psychological diagnosis. “You need to know everything because you’re afraid to be wrong. You’re so afraid of being ordinary, of being just another doctor, just another human being, that you’ll risk other people’s lives.”

House rolled his eyes, taking a broad step. “I’m arrogant. You’re the coward,” he explained. “You’re terrified of death. You just want to cheat it by making it come sooner. Gives you the illusion of control.”

Remy looked at him in shock, mouth open. Hurt. Denial. Anger. At what she wouldn’t admit. She pursed her lips as the teenage boy, also put at risk by House’s flagrancy, asked if he could go. None of them could. If she was being entirely honest with herself, she wasn’t even sure if she wanted to. For what? To come into work the next day for a megalomaniac. To spare her a few more years before she lost her own mind…

She heard the team providing their consults. Wilson on the other end, calling House insane. Foreman giving up on the situation. Her other colleagues and friends offering long shots. The subtle nervousness in Sawyer’s voice. Fuck her for caring, she thought to herself. Fuck all of them.

For now she would focus on the puzzle. This ridiculously insane puzzle that only those without hope could actually focus on. And she would accept her role in the whole ordeal.

In spite of House’s protests, she injected the dexamethasone into her hip. She met his cold eyes, his judgment, no longer afraid to confront his analysis of her psyche with stubborn resolve. His eyes showed that he cared for her in some way, even if the words would never leave his lips. Her eyes betrayed a sadness that betrayed that she didn’t blame him for any of this.

“How long do you have to live?” Jason asked as she returned to her position on the bench.

“Eight, ten years,” she responded softly, sweat beginning to pool on her brow.

“Killing her is your chance to get personal?” House quipped sharply. Remy knew she was trying to deflect. Trying to protect her even if he didn’t even realize it himself, even if it went against his cynical resignation to fate.

Jason was undeterred. “Huntington’s doesn’t have a cure?” he asked.

“No,” Remy replied simply.

“So when we get out of here-“

“If she were clinging to hope, she wouldn’t be standing in line waiting for you to order up more drugs,” House said, returning behind the shield of his flippancy. “Take a deep breath.”

“Not knowing what was wrong with me,” Jason panted, “made me miserable. Maybe that’s insane. Doing this… yeah. Insane. But I had something to gain.” Remy looked at him stunned. “You can’t take risks with no upside at all.”

That was the last thing she heard. That and the pounding of her head. The whispering away of her breath in its pipes. Her stance began to falter, eyes rolling back. She felt herself being lowered back onto the table, House’s rough hand against her forehead.

Then there was the pain. Searing pain as House pressed against her side. She cried out wildly, squirming under his firm touch. Incensed by the heat of her fever. In and out of consciousness, she heard House on his cellphone.

“The dexamethasone is making Thirteen’s kidneys fail, but not the patients. Why?”

“This guy’s been on 50 different medications. Maybe his kidneys should be failing but something’s protecting them,” Cameron suggested. Thirteen watched as House slapped the patient in a diagnostic test she knew he took all too much pleasure in.

“He has calcium deficiency,” House called out. “Drugs that block calcium tend to shield against kidney damage.”

As the DDX continued, Remy felt herself folding into her body, her disease-coded body that she had been trying to ignore since she ran that test.

She heard Taub’s voice. “Leishmeniasis.”

“Meliodosis. Bacteria gets into the lungs. Spread to the heart. It explains everything.” That was Sawyer. The voice of the woman she had been trying to ignore for weeks pierced through her mind’s fogginess. She didn’t have the strength to stop it. Didn’t have the strength to deny that there were feelings there.

“Except that if you’d read the history, you’d know that our patient has never been to a tropical climate,” House chided, looking down at Remy’s sweaty profile.

“Is he absolutely sure of that? Mexico? Costa Rica?” Remy could hear Sawyer steering herself to continue in spite of House’s critique. “You’ve never been— “

“I’ve never been anywhere south of Florida,” Jason finally called out.

Oh my god.

Everyone was silent. “You idiot,” House finally barked as Remy raised her head to glare at him. House moved to quickly order 3 grams of ceftazidime. 

When ESU was reticent, Jason finally offered the key to his own puzzle: “You can have Dr. House.”

Remy knew what that meant. House did too. He tried to bargain with Jason, offering his own body as guinea pig, trying to spare Remy of what they all knew would be a fatal interaction.

It was over.

“House, get out of here,” Remy demanded, mustering her last bit of strength.

“Shut up. I’m not leaving.”

The young brunette inhaled deeply, red-rimmed eyes pointed directly at House. “Who’s the martyr now? Either the drugs kill me or he kills me. Doesn’t seem to make a lot of difference.”

To her surprise, House left. The stubborn man who never listened to anyone’s orders did to hers. It was almost like a parting gift.

These were her final moments.

“You really don’t feel bad about killing me?” Remy asked in calm exhaustion, preparing her syringe.

“Not if you don’t feel bad about killing yourself.”

“I don’t want to die,” she said, feeling for a vein.

“Yeah you do,” Jason countered, pacing back and forth. “You just don’t have the nerve to actually do it. You just want it out of your control. Well it is. ‘Cause I’ve got a gun,” he stated, pointing the pistol directly at her.

Control. House had been right. Everything since her diagnosis had been nothing more than a desperate grappling for some sense of power as the rest of her life kept spiraling.

She felt her pulse pound in her vein, needle poised against her skin. Her mind began to race as she tried to brace herself, finally pulling away. “Don’t do this,” she pleaded desperately. 

“Either I do this with you alive, or…”

“Please? Sometimes you just have to trust people.” Her she was suggesting one of the things she was unable to do. Her mind flashed to Sawyer, asking her is she was okay as she cried in the bathroom. To Foreman, offering her a place in a drug trial.

Jason moved closer with the gun.

Remy pursed her lips to try to keep herself from crying. She placed the syringe back against her skin, forcing her thumb to sit on the top of the plunger, panting heavily, shaking. Looking up at Jason. This was it. Even with his gun pointed at her, this was death by her own hands, not by her Huntington’s. 

And she didn’t want it.

“I don’t want to die!” she cried out, shaking her head vigorously. “I don’t want to die,” she repeated in self-realization.

The next few seconds felt like slow motion. Jason shaking his head and putting down the gun. Stabbing himself with the syringe. The explosion. Feeling herself being thrown against the ground by the impact. Then darkness.

Page break – page break – page break – Page break – page break – page break –

Sawyer shuffled on her feet in front of the door, debating yet another time whether or not she should enter. Finally, the selfish desire – need – to see her won out. The blonde took a step into Remy’s hospital room.

The beautiful brunette was laying back against the pillows, eyes closed peacefully, chest rising and falling with soft breaths. The paleness of her against the lamplight gave her an almost angelic glow. The younger doctor let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. The only sounds in the room were that of the dialysis machine and other monitors and Sawyer’s footsteps, the last of which spurred the older doctor to open her eyes.

Sawyer braced herself for a glare. Or to be outright asked to leave the room. Instead, Remy gave her a soft smile, tilting her head on the pillow to face her.

Sawyer had been apprised of her condition by House. Had been shuttled to her room in advance of all others by the enigmatic diagnostician, who wore a mischievious grin on his face. This was the first time Remy herself had woken up. “A week of temporary dialysis,” Sawyer said softly. “Your kidneys will be okay.” The brunette took a few breaths as she took in the news, finally collapsing back against the pillow in clear relief. “I’m sorry for getting involved in the differential. And for coming here now. I just… needed to see that you were okay.” 

Sawyer turned to leave when, to her surprised, Remy called out her name. “Wait, Sawyer, don’t leave.” The blonde turned and looked at her curiously. “Would you like to get dinner sometime?” Remy asked with a small smile, one which broke out into a genuine grin when Sawyer nodded her head yes.

“I’d like that,” the blonde replied verbally, stepping towards the side of her bed.

“I’ll have to get out of here first of course,” Remy joked, trying to lighten the gravity of the situation.

“You mean a hospital food smorgasbord isn’t what you were thinking?” Remy chuckled before taking a sharp breath in pain, and Sawyer looked at her with concern. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Remy reassured her. “Um, do you want to stay a while? I’m not sure if you’re busy…” Sawyer smirked and pulled the guest chair to the side of the bed, taking a seat. Remy took a deep breath. “Thank you. For figuring out…”

Sawyer held up a hand, gently stopping her. “Don’t. It wouldn’t have even been a problem if the patient wasn’t an absolute idiot.”

Remy chuckled. “That’s true. But still.”

The two women were quiet for a moment, the room heavy with anticipation and nerves.

“I was scared,” Sawyer finally said softly. “I’m really glad you’re okay.” She dared to look up at the woman in front of her.

“I, uh, I think I want to start a drug trial with Foreman. This Huntington’s trial. I mean, it’s no guarantee but it’s having positive results…”

Sawyer reached over and gently held one of Remy’s hands in hers. She smiled. “I think that’s a really good idea.”


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own House M.D.

A/N: Thank you very much for the support with this story so far!

Chapter 6

Remy Hadley was nervous.

She reasoned to herself that she was being stupid. After all, this certainly wasn’t her first time going on a date (although it certainly had been a while…), nor was it her first time going on a date with a girl. No, that wasn’t it. Hell, she had already slept with this woman multiple times already.

But this was different.

As remiss as Remy was to admit it to herself, this was different. In the turmoil since she received her diagnosis, since throwing caution to the wind with sex and drugs, since being held hostage, since agreeing to the Huntington’s trial, she had starting falling for the blonde doctor who had stumbled into her life. Quite literally, Remy thought to herself as she remembered first sliding into the doctor at Princeton-Plainsboro a few weeks ago. Had it only be weeks? Remy sighed to herself. She couldn’t remember the last time she had started to fall for someone this hard so quickly.

She resolved that she wouldn’t think about it. After all, this was only a first date – there was no need for her to get ahead of herself. To get things messy. Feelings always made things messy. She would go on their date, hopefully have a good time, and see where things went from there.

A knock on Remy’s door interrupted her present internal monologue. After mussing her hair once more in the mirror, she crossed her apartment and checked the peephole on the door (the situation with Jason having made her a bit more cautious about some things). Catching sight of a flash of platinum blonde in the blurry fisheye lens, she opened the door. Sawyer was standing with a relaxed slouch, one foot of her wine-toned Vans balanced on the brick wall. If she was nervous, nothing in her posturing betrayed it, other than the shy smirk that she gave the brunette.

“Hey,” she said simply, brushing some of her unruly short waves out of her eyes.

“Hey,” Remy returned with a small smile. She took a moment to look at the younger woman. She was wearing a pair of slim-fit dark grey jogger pants. A plain white t-shirt peeking out from under her loose leather jacket, and she was holding a light grey knit beanie. “You look – good.” Really good, she thought to herself.

“Thanks,” Sawyer replied sheepishly before admiring the way her date’s dark wash skinny jeans hugged her every curve. “I mean, you’re one to talk.”

“Oh look at you, such a flatterer,” Remy kidded.

The younger doctor shrugged. “You make it too easy,” she quipped back, leading the brunette towards her car.

Remy chuckled, beginning to feel more relaxed. “Now you’re just trying to make me blush,” she playfully chided. “Anyway, where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.”

Heading out in Sawyer’s Prius – which Remy appropriately teased her for – the pair soon arrived at Mercer County Park. Remy gave the blonde a curiously look. “Isn’t it a bit cold for a stroll in the park?” she teased.

“I told you to bring a hat,” Sawyer jibed back as they exited the car. “Just kidding. The hat is to protect that head of yours. After all, I know you have a tendency to slip,” she added with a sly grin, earning another confused stare. “Come on now, you’ll see!” she directed, leading Remy down the pathway.

After a short walk, the pair arrived at a large lodge-like building. Remy could hear muffled voices on the other side of the wooden walls, but the lack of windows prevented her from seeing inside. “Oh I see now,” she joked dryly, “You’re bringing me to a cult sacrifice.”

“Yep, we have one the third Friday of every month,” the blonde deadpanned. Pulling open the door, however, Sawyer revealed a much more hospitable interior: large ice skating rink. Dozens of couples and groups of teens and children were gliding one the ice, twinkling Christmas lights dangling from the high wooden ceiling beams above them. Looking over at Sawyer, Remy was met with a playful and excited grin. “Okay Hadley, let’s see what you’ve got.”

~*~Page Break~*~Page Break~*~Page Break~*~Page Break~*~Page Break~*~Page Break~*~

It turned out that Remy was completely awful at ice skating, much to Sawyer’s amusement.

Having already fallen on her ass three times, in her naturally competitive spirit, she was now trying yet again to navigate a small chord of the rink, her date waiting about 10 yards away. Stiffening her ankles to prevent her legs from wobbling, the brunette attempted to shuffle forward, making it a few strides before she grabbed for the wall.

Sawyer did everything she could to quell her laughter. “Come on, Remy! You’ve got this,” she encouraged playfully. The older doctor began to move before fumbling on her skates like a cartoon character, eyes widened as she reached back to hold desperately to the wall once more. Sawyer chuckled to herself as she watched the brunette exhale heavily in frustration, a small pout unintentionally gracing her features. Adorable.

The younger doctor effortlessly gliding over towards the wall a few feet away. “Here,” she instructed with a grin, holding out her hands.

Remy quirked an eyebrow. “Okay, so how do I actually do this?” she asked with a smirk.

Sawyer giggled. “So the key is you wanna bend your knees a bit. Re-center your frame of gravity.” She watched as Remy complied. “Yep, exactly. And you’re going to lean slightly forward, not backwards. Or you’ll fall on your ass again,” she added devilishly.

Remy rolled her eyes. “Better than my face,” she joked.

“You do have a nice face,” Sawyer agreed, earning a small blush from the brunette. She cleared her throat. “But um yeah, now just push off one of your feet a little bit and let yourself glide.” Remy took an intentionally dramatic deep breath before following the blonde’s instructions, pushing off of the wall. Sliding a few feet forward, she reached Sawyer, who grabbed her hands to steady her. “You did it!” the blonde said with a laugh.

Distracted by the chill that ran up her spine when her hands connected with Sawyer, it was a couple of moments before Remy responded. “Oh! Yeah well, I don’t think Michelle Kwan will be shaking in her skates any time soon.”

“Well I think you’ve made impressive progress,” Sawyer kidded. “But how about I give you a little assistance for the rest of the night.” Remy looked at the younger woman, who had her arm extended. She was biting her lower lip, eyes betraying a hint of nervousness. Remy smiled softly before linked her own arm with the blonde.

“Sounds like a plan.”

~*~Page Break~*~Page Break~*~Page Break~*~Page Break~*~Page Break~*~Page Break~*~

The pair continued to skate around for sometime longer, arms linked, pulled tightly against one another. After they tired, they grabbed too steaming cups of hot chocolate, allowing the beverages to warm them up as the chit-chatted on a nearby wooden bench. Before they knew it, however, the rink was closing and they were back in Sawyer’s car and then at Remy’s apartment complex.

Walking closely to one another – yet not quite touching – the pair headed up the sidewalk to the older doctor’s door.

“I had a really nice time,” Sawyer offered shyly.

Remy smiled. “I did too. Although my ass is going to be pretty sore tomorrow.”

Sawyer laughed. “Need someone to kiss it and make it better,” she jested. Realizing the implication of her joke, her ears and cheeks flushed a deep red.

“I’m sure House will think that’s what happened,” Remy kidded, trying to diffuse the woman’s discomfort. The paused at the doorway as Remy pulled out her key. “Um, speaking of, do you want to come in?” the brunette asked, biting her lip.

“I think that I should get going actually,” Sawyer replied, gesturing towards her car.

“Oh, yeah sure,” Remy said quickly, trying to clear her posturing of any signs of disappointment… or hurt.

Sawyer, of course, picked the brunette’s emotions right up. “Oh, shit, no Remy I didn’t mean it like that. Really?”

“Sawyer, it’s okay…”

“No no no,” the blonde interrupted, reaching out and grabbing the brunette’s hands. “I had an amazing time tonight. And I really, I mean, really want to go inside with you right now,” she explained, pure desire flashing through her eyes. “I just… think maybe we should take it a little bit slow? Ugh, I know that sounds so cliché but yeah, it must be the Southern gentleman in me,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Remy laughed. “The Southern gentleman in you is charming, although I can’t say it’s helping make me not want to kiss you right now,” she flirted.

Sawyer’s blue eyes darkened slightly as she looked at the brunette’s lips. “I didn’t say you couldn’t kiss me,” she husked.

Leaning in, almost tentatively, the older doctor pressed her lips against the blonde’s. The kiss was soft and cautious at first, but soon deepened, sending a jolt of electricity through them both. Pulling back, they smiled at one another.

Sawyer squeezed the brunette’s hand. “Night, Remy.”

“Night, Sawyer.”


End file.
